


The Worth of a Wineskin

by Pearl_Pilots_In_Chains



Series: Of Tears and Ash [9]
Category: Hercules: The Legendary Journeys
Genre: Banter, Discussion, Gen, world building
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-26
Updated: 2018-09-26
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:00:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25560979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pearl_Pilots_In_Chains/pseuds/Pearl_Pilots_In_Chains
Summary: Orestes is interested in learning more about the third guard in the caravan, Kadmos.
Series: Of Tears and Ash [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1050806
Kudos: 8





	The Worth of a Wineskin

The shadows of twilight were growing long over the encampment, the dying embers of the day relinquishing the world into the cool arms of the night.The sun had faded off into the distance, sinking below the horizon at what seemed to be a swiftly accelerated pace.There was no doubt that it would soon be hidden altogether, the sky given over completely to the darkness.Already, Orestes could make out stars in the dark portion of the heavens.It wouldn’t be long at all before the celestial tapestry could be clearly observed, pictures painted clear in the infinity above.Apollo had withdrawn his radiance, and allowed Selene’s light to burst forth.The moon was swollen, nearly at her full strength.It would be a bright night.The sort of night when one might awake and at first feel that perhaps they had arisen to the first glimmers of dawn, for all the light which fell about them.And yet, if one were to search the firmament, they would find that shade still embraced the world, but a shade which had been weakened by lunar beauty.

The day’s journey was done now, and soon, the merchants of the company would retire for the evening.The night was a time of rest, a time of rejuvenation, such as they could acquire, for them.The same could not wholly be said for the three guards in the company.For them, the night was a time for vigilance, a time to be aware and wary.They kept watch in shifts the whole night long, each one taking a turn to remain awake while the others in the camp slept.The night was an ideal time for brigands, or thieves of any sort for that matter, to strike.It was always best to be prepared, should such an attack come.And so, the sleep which the mercenaries fell into each night was a light one, from which they could be easily aroused, should some ill befall the caravan.

For now though, the company was still awake, the evening not fully passed into the night.There was some time left, perhaps an hour at most, before the warriors would slip into their charier selves.At the moment, there was still a sense of calm, and pleasant sentiments about the camp.It was a time of relative comradery, banter, and the like.

A good group of the merchants was gathered about the central campfire, sharing stories and anecdotes, the discussion of business already completed for the day.For a time, Orestes had lingered alongside them, listening to Salmoneus merrily refer a strange tale regarding one of his previous associates, and an unusual competition themed around beauty which they had both staged.It had all sounded somewhat preposterous to Orestes, but if there was one thing which he learned about Salmoneus during his time employed by the merchant, it was that the man brought a new meaning to that word.The merchant was an eccentric fellow, to state the truth in a kind enough fashion.He wasn’t a bad sort of individual, merely the sort who others couldn’t help but raise their eyebrows and shake their heads at from time to time. 

Nevertheless, Salmoneus was also personable enough, as such things went, and his amiable disposition seemed to have a disarming effect on those with whom he interacted, either as partners or customers.In other words, he was the type of man who others felt like they could trust, and perhaps befriend, easily enough.His quirks only seemed to contribute to the overarching unassuming air which hung about him.Perhaps the existence of such oddities balanced out the arrogant streak which occasionally made itself known.After all, even if he was occasionally a little pompous, no one could take such a trait too seriously, when it was surrounded by more agreeable, and occasionally amusing, elements.At least, that was Orestes’s current theory as to how the merchant had achieved his apparent success.

Orestes had listened to Salmoneus story for what must have been a good twenty minutes or so at the least, if not a bit more than that, before he had decided that he wasn’t particularly enthralled by it.Oh yes, there was no doubt that it was an intriguing tale, but Orestes had no overwhelming desire to stick around to hear the end of it (as who knew how long it might take for Salmoneus to arrive at that end; even two mere weeks of acquaintance with the man had taught Orestes that Salmoneus’s stories were infamously long-winded).He assumed that the ending, whenever it eventually occurred, would be no less absurd than the rest of the story which came before it.He wouldn’t be surprised in the least if it involved some unexpected, and frankly mind-boggling, twist, such as the arrival of a surprise contender who won the competition through an inscrutable turn of events.That seemed like the sort of narrative Salmoneus would spin.Whether it was the truth of the matter or not (or whether the events in the story were veracious to begin with) was something to which Orestes had no interesting in speaking.

With this in mind, Orestes had subtly sneaked away from his position at the edge of the campfire (outside of the immediate circle around it, which was wholly occupied by the group of traders gathered there) and cast his eyes about the encampment, seeking Iphicles and their fellow guard, Kadmos.At last, he laid his gaze upon them.They both stood at the far reaches of the fire’s light, where it gave way to the shade of the night, orange flicker giving way to the pale white wash of the moon.They were turned toward the road, Iphicles leaning his back against the side of a tree, while Kadmos rested his arm against a branch of that same plant.Orestes resolved to join them.First however, he crept off in the direction of his bedroll, retrieving his wineskin from his pack.The offering of a drink was rarely which failed to improve the mood, and often spurred on conversation.With this idea in mind, and the wineskin in hand, Orestes strolled over to the other mercenaries.

In their time with the caravan, Iphicles and Orestes had learned little of Kadmos.He was a taciturn individual, of that there was no doubt.He conversed only as much as necessary, a sense of economy always present in his words.As a result, the two companions knew little about the other mercenaries.Orestes was determined to learn something, even if it was slight, about the man’s origins.He approached the other two men, planning his tactic.

As he neared the two mercenaries, Iphicles nodded to him.“Ah, my friend, you’ve come to join us, have you?”

“Indeed,” Iphicles confirmed.

“Did you grow tired of the tale I am sure Salmoneus is weaving?”Iphicles queried with a glitter in his eye.

“You know me so well,” Orestes remarked, chuckling.“Here, I come bearing a gift.”He offered out the wineskin to Iphicles.At this, Kadmos turned back, showing interest for the first time.

Iphicles accepted the wineskin graciously.“Ah, you have my thanks friend.Though I fear my tongue does not thirst for a drink this evening.”He turned toward Kadmos, extending out the vessel in his direction.“Perhaps you would care for some, friend Kadmos?”

Kadmos nodded, a slight smile showing itself on his face.“Ah, indeed I would good Iphicles,” he agreed as he accepted the wineskin, before dipping his head in Iphicle’s direction.“My thanks to you Orestes.”

Orestes waved a hand dismissively.“Don’t mention it, comrade Kadmos.It’s nothing.”He leaned up against a tree near the one which the other two men were utilizing, joining their supposed vigil.“Anything interesting I’ve missed.”

“Just watching the road,” Iphicles answered.“And escaping the storytelling, I suppose,” he added with a short laugh.Kadmos merely shook his head at the question, uncapping the skin and raising it to his lips.

“Ah well, the road is probably less tedious than the tale,” Orestes mused humorously.He fell silent for a moment, looking off into the night in the direction of said road.The light of the moon, which had conquered the dying sun in the sky, fell on patches of the road here and there through the trees, illuminating the well-packed dirt, worn into shape by the falls of many a foot and hoof alike.

“Say, Kadmos,” Orestes began, breaking his silence, “What do you think of that wine?I haven’t tasted the fruit of this region in some time.I had forgotten much of its merit.Though, I’d still choose that of the southern regions over it,” he opined.

Kadmos remained silent for a few moments, and Orestes at first though that the other man did not intend to answer the question.Eventually though, he did so.“I’d say you’re right friend Orestes,” he concurred.“The vine of the south has a finer flavor to it.”

“I’d have to agree as well,” Iphicles mused.“The wine of Boeotia is a more wholesome sort, I’d say.”

Kadmos glanced at Iphicles.“Do you hail from there then?”

“Indeed, I do,” Iphicles confirmed.“I was born not far from Plataea.”

Kadmos raised an eyebrow.“I was not aware the wine from that region was noteworthy.”In a vaguely amused tone, he continued, “I’d always found the wine in my homeland to be better myself.”

“And where would that be?”Iphicles inquired.

“Why, Megaris, of course,” Kadmos answered confidently.

“Well now, I was not aware that Megaris’s wine was something to remember, or that land produced any of it at all,” Iphicles countered in amusement, his grin signaling that the debate was of a friendly variety.

Kadmos looked over to Orestes.“Say, Orestes, which land do you think boasts the fairer vine?”

Orestes pursed his lips thoughtfully for a moment, before shrugging.“I’m afraid I can’t say fairly myself either, as my tongue still thinks that the vine of Magnesia is best.I would instead have to say that that which I drank once upon a time in Iolcus is finer still.”

Kadmos shook his head, looking positively entertained by the ongoing discussion.“Well, it is often said that each man likes the drink of his homeland the best.Perhaps there is nothing to be done for it.”

“No, I would guess not,” Iphicles concurred with faux disappointment.

The watch of the road fell silent again, as the night entered into its own at last.Kadmos returned to his usual reserved state, his interest in discussion spent for the night.Still, Orestes had to count the conversation as a success, given that he had finally learned where the other mercenary hailed from.Even if it wasn’t much, it was still something, and that fact satisfied Orestes.The wine, which he had never had any substantial interest in consuming himself, hadn’t gone to waste after all.

**Author's Note:**

> This is another one of my HTLJ fics from 2018 (set in my "Of Tears and Ash" AU) that I never posted, but decided I might as well, considering the time I put into them. Once again, since I'm no longer really in the fandom, I'm backdating this to when I wrote it, so no one thinks I'm suddenly back into HTLJ.


End file.
